Recovery
by Firstlady1408
Summary: Martha/Aaron This picks up where season 5 ended and will end in Season 6.Martha is struggling to deal with past events, Aaron tries to help her pick up the pieces but is his love enough to keep Martha afloat?
1. Chapter 1

**Recovery**

Chapter One

"Here, look." Martha pulled Aaron's arm toward her.

"I don't see it." Aaron peered down the busy Los Angeles street for the third time.

"You're just not looking!" Martha exclaimed. Taking his face in her hands, she pointed him toward the small shop front that a mass of people were lining up to get into. "See?"

"Martha, I see a shop...Is that what all this was about.?" Aaron turned to face her, a puzzled expression on his face. "Because you know me and shopping, honey, that's the thing you do, and I watch sports, remember?" He grinned at her and took her arm as she began to walk toward the store.

"Ah, but this is not just any store, my love. This..." She stopped outside the shop window and pointed at the neon sign above the door. "This is Mel's!"

Almost twenty minutes had passed before they stepped out into the blazing sunshine again. Aaron shifted the weight of the bags he was carrying. " So tell me again what's so great about this fruit. I mean a kiwi is a kiwi, right?" He stopped when he realised Martha was no longer walking beside him and turned back to see her standing hands on hips, with a pout on her face. "Okay, I get the feeling I just said the wrong thing." He moved the bags he was carrying to one arm and walked back toward Martha and with his free hand stroked her face. "I'm sorry darlin', I didn't know you were so touchy about your fruit." He teased and smiled to himself as her face flushed at his light touch. They had been dating for a little over a month and it still amazed him that someone like her could have fallen for someone like him. He smiled again enjoying the effect even the slightest of his touches could provoke on her body. Pulling his hand away he again reached for her arm and they began to walk down the busy street. "So, tell me what is so special about this fruit. I really want to know." 

"Really?" Martha pouted. She enjoyed teasing him, and did it at every available opportunity. Peering at him over her sunglasses, she smiled slightly when she saw him raise his eyebrows.

"Really."

"Okay, well I discovered Mel's about 5 years ago, when David was in L.A. He would often wear a baseball cap and glasses and meet me for a private lunch. Well, at least as private as one can have with 15 Secret Service agents close by. Anyway, we were walking back to his hotel together enjoying the freedom and the sun when we stopped outside Mel's. I don't know if you know, but David had a thing for fresh fruit. Anyway, we stopped and picked up some berries and stuff, and came here." Martha stopped walking and Aaron looked up. He had been so engrossed in her story about his former boss and friend he hadn't noticed where she had been leading him. He looked around and saw nothing but green.

"Martha. This is beautiful," he exclaimed. He found it hard to reconcile where they now were was only a few minutes walk from the busy streets they had been on.

"Yes, David thought so, too. We found it by accident. After stopping at Mel's, we just walked and talked. Anyway, we ended up here." She gestured at the emerald park that surrounded them, a blue lake in its center. "So we stopped, sat on the grass and ate our fruit and talked." She looked back at Aaron and was sure she saw a glint of a tear in his eye, or it could have been the sun. "I thought maybe we could do the same. Sit, eat fruit, and talk." Uncertain now at his lack of response she shifted on her feet and took off her glasses. "Aaron? You okay? We can take this back to my apartment if you've had enough of the sun." 

Aaron shook his head and glanced back at Martha, the sun was shining behind her, making her loose, curly hair look almost golden. Putting the bags on the ground, he reached for her hands. "Sit, talk and eat fruit huh? I can't think of anything I'd rather do." 

"I can't...really, Aaron. I am so full," she managed to murmur against his fingers that were touching her lips. She felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach as he held up the last raspberry and at her refusal to open her mouth he slowly began to run the fruit along her closed lips. Lying back against his chest, she sighed, and after a few seconds of his teasing she slowly opened her lips to allow Aaron to place the berry in her mouth. This he did with such tenderness and so slowly it felt like some wonderful form of torture. Closing her mouth she not only captured the fruit but his finger. Quickly swallowing the raspberry, she turned her attention to his finger and slowly began to lick the juice from it. Opening her mouth, he lazily ran his finger along her lips as she impatiently chased it with her tongue. As his arms tightened round her, she could feel the pounding of his heart against her back. Squirming around, keeping her body as close to his as possible, she looked into his eyes. "You having fun?" She grinned at him.   
Aaron stared at the beautiful creature before him and once again wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky. After the events of almost six months ago, he had convinced himself he would never see Martha again. He smiled as he thought back to how little he really knew her then. He had known she was determined, her actions to bring her ex husband to justice had shown that. What he hadn't counted on was her determination to keep the contact between the two of them. The day David's body had been flown back to D.C, he had been sat on the couch of the safe house CTU had provided for him, watching the events unfold on national television. His heart had skipped a beat as he saw Martha standing on the stage behind her husband who was delivering his eulogy to the country. He thought she looked so lost. Again he wondered to himself if leaving her at the stables had been the right thing to do. The proper thing maybe, but right? He wasn't so sure know. He watched with interest as some of his colleagues took to the stage to stand behind Logan, and cursed when the picture was lost and the news reader announced they had lost transmission to the airfield. The next hour was spent pacing up and down the small room, checking his phone every few minutes, waiting for someone, anyone, to let him know what was happening. He had his finger poised over the send button for a few seconds to call Mike Novick,when he heard the doorbell ring. Throwing his cell onto the couch, he practically sprinted to the door and flung it open to reveal a dishevelled and worn out First Lady. He had stared at her for what seemed like minutes before standing aside and without saying a word she walked into the house.

"Martha every day with you is fun! You know that." Aaron smiled back at her and his breath caught in his throat as she leaned in until their lips met. They had kissed on many occasions and Aaron wondered if his body would ever get used to the sensations, or if was to spend the rest of his life feeling as if he had been electrocuted everytime this woman kissed him. As her lips moved against his, he thought to himself, either way he didn't care, as long as she kept on kissing him. As her tongue slipped into his hot mouth, he stopped thinking and started reacting. Pulling her closer to him, he battled for control of their mouths. It was a familiar game, one she usually won, but Aaron was feeling particularly aggressive today, and as his hands came up to tangle in her wavy hair he took control and gently pushed her back so he was hovering over her -- never once letting their lips lose contact. As he felt her body relax into the soft grass, he pulled away slightly from her and looked down at her face. She had her eyes closed. "What are you thinking?" he asked her softly.  
Without opening her eyes, she began to speak, so softly he lowered his body further down on to hers to listen. "I was just thinking of the first time I kissed you." She opened her eyes and he could see the glint in them. "I swear, I thought you were gonna have me removed from the house."  
Aaron moved slightly so he now lay on the grass beside her. As he held his arms out, she fitted herself in them, thinking how perfect a fit they made. Whether it was on her couch, his easy chair, or the grass of a park, she fitted against him like their bodies had been made that way. She fitted him in a way she never had with Charles. They were equal, they were partners in all sense of the word. As she lay her head against his chest, she blushed slightly as she thought to herself that in all sense of the words was a little premature. Yes, they had officially been an item for a little over a month, but they had agreed to take things slow -- although Martha had very little doubt that they would end up in a bedroom very soon. Thinking back, she chuckled softly against his chest. As she lay her head back down, she remembered the first time she had kissed Aaron. 

As she stepped through the open door, she glanced around the bare room. The curtains were drawn and the tv on but muted. As she walked further into the room she realized the agent Mike had assigned to accompany her here had followed her into the house. She turned to face him." Agent, would you mind waiting for me outside, please?"

"Mrs. Logan, my orders were to make sure..."

"Agent Pierce, as far as I am aware, is still on active duty. I see no need for you to be concerned. Aaron, I'm sure, will take good care of me." She said all of this without looking at Aaron, and although she couldn't see him, she knew his cheeks were burning. She glared at the Agent, who after taking another look at the First Lady's expression, murmured a "yes ma'am" and closed the door behind him. Martha stood still with her back to Aaron. She slowly peeled off her gloves and took off her black hat and carefully placed them on the coffee table. Eventually, unable to bear it any longer, she turned to face him. She had never felt so scared. She didn't know how he was going to react. Their goodbye at the stable had seemed so final to her, and she was so unsure of how he would feel about her seeking him out so soon after. Lifting her eyes to finally look at him, she opened her mouth to speak...but nothing came out. She had no clue what to say to him. He stood before her bruised and looking at her with a mixture of confusion and, dare she dream it, happiness. She found that the speech she had so carefully prepared in the car now seemed insignificant and futile. She opened her mouth again to talk and found the words catching in her throat. "Aaron...I..I..." 

Aaron looked at the First Lady, her mouth opening and closing and nothing coming out. He mentally slapped himself as he thought how adorable she looked. Eventually he decided to let her off the hook and spoke first. "Is it over?" he asked simply.

Martha smiled at him -- the first genuine smile that had passed her lips all morning. " It's over, Aaron. Charles has been taken into custody. We did it."

"You did it, Martha. You were the only person able to get close enough to him. You did it." He smiled at her then -- a genuine smile of affection and admiration for the woman who stood as tall as him but currently looked as fragile as a porcelain doll.

Martha smiled at his words, then without warning she found herself crying -- crying so hard her whole body started to convulse. She grabbed her hankie from her purse and held it to her mouth, but she couldn't stop the tears from pouring down her cheeks, or the wracking sobs that escaped her mouth. She looked at Aaron through blurry eyes and saw him move swiftly across the room to stand in front of her. He grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her into his embrace. She felt his strong arms move to circle her back and felt his hands making circular movements desperately trying to calm her. Martha again tried to hold back the tears, but the more she tried, the more came. Eventually giving up, she allowed her body to fall limply against his and just let him hold her. After a time she found that the sobs had become quieter whimpers and the tears had slowed to a trickle. Lifting her head slightly from his chest she looked into his eyes. She nearly lost it again when she saw the concern held there. Instead she found herself studying his face. Each crease and dimple. Lifting one of her hands from her side, she couldn't help but reach out and touch him. She touched his cheeks, his eyes, his neck. She couldn't help it; it was if someone else had the use of her hand. All she knew was that if she couldn't, if she didn't, allow herself this contact -- to be able to touch him -- she would crumble again. As she stroked his cheeks, she watched him with interest as his eyes slowly closed. His face moved into her hand like a cat nuzzling into its owner. Martha knew this wasn't the time. She knew this wasn't the place. She knew she wasn't ready for what she was about to do, but without letting the thoughts permeate into her head too much she moved her head forward and captured his lips with her own. She felt him gasp against her mouth, but he didn't move away. Pulling up both of her hands she held his head and began to move her lips against his. Pushing her whole body into his, she moaned as she felt him move against her. She didn't care about anything at this moment; all she wanted, all she needed was the feel of his lips on hers, of his body against hers. Slipping her tongue between his teeth she explored the hotness of his mouth, all the time grinding her lower body into him. She felt his arms slide into her hair and gently tug on it as his tongue duelled with hers. She felt an urgency she had never felt before and it scared her slightly. As she moved her body against his again she found herself left mouth open, cheeks aglow and hair messed as Aaron pulled her away from him. She stood staring at him for what seemed like an eternity, unsure of what she had done. Closing her mouth, she began to feel the well of tears build up in her again as Aaron turned his back to her. "I...I'm sorry, Aaron...that was ...inappropiate...I...I just..." She stopped as her words began to come out choked and weak. Aaron quickly turned back toward her. What he saw in her eyes made him reach for her again. Only this time he held her gently, running his hands up and down her arms. She allowed her head to again fall to his chest and felt the rapid beating of his heart through his thin shirt. The stroking of his arms calmed her and she no longer felt the intense urgency of only a few seconds before. They stood like that for minutes until Aaron spoke.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Martha. Don't ever apologize to me. But right now, I think you just need this. So I am going to take us over to the couch and we are going to sit down, and I am going to hold you."  
Martha's head shot up at the sincerity in his voice. She allowed a small smile to mirror his as carefully he led her to the worn leather couch in the center of the room. Letting go of his hold on her, she allowed herself to fall back onto the comfy cushions and waited until he sat beside her.  
Aaron looked over at the woman he knew he was meant to love from this day forward, and held out his arms. Without sound or question, Martha slid over into them. 

Chuckling again to herself, she snuggled into Aaron.

"What's so funny?" He murmured into her hair.

"I was just thinking back to our first kiss."

"I don't recall it being amusing."

"Oh, me, either. I recall it being the hottest thing I think I have ever felt."  
She looked up and smiled as she saw what she knew she would: Aaron's cheeks turning a nice shade of red. "That is, the hottest thing until the next time, and the time after that..." She giggled. "Though you certainly made me wait until the next time!" She pulled herself up to allow her better access to his neck, placing featherlike kisses along his jawline.

"Well, you know as well as I do, Martha, you weren't ready. At least I didn't make you wait until your divorce came through.

Martha laughed. "You make it sound like you could have stayed away."

"You didn't make it easy."

"I didn't intend to." She smiled. Pulling herself up to a sitting position, she looked down at the man she loved. "Let's go home."

Walking into her house, Martha felt her mood lift even more than she thought was possible. She had bought the house after her divorce had been finalized only a few months ago, and she still loved the feelings it created in her when she walked through the front door. For the first time in her life she was happy. Truly happy. She had a man with whom she was falling more and more in love with every day, she had her own little nest high in the hills of L.A. And above all, she no longer had to care about her ex-husband. He had been under house arrest at their retreat for the last six months, and Martha was just awaiting confirmation to the charges he would face. Then she could finally put the whole sorry mess behind her once Charles was locked up. And she had no doubts it would be for a very long time. Smiling to herself, she turned to face Aaron, who had placed the rest of the bags from Mel's on the kitchen table. She loved how at home he felt here. She enjoyed watching him let himself in with his own keys and casually throw his coat over the nearest thing, usually the bannister. She kept a supply of his favorite potato chips and beers on hand. She truly loved nothing more than to cuddle up with him in front of the T.V., something they had done regularly over the last month since they became official. It wasn't that Martha didn't want to go out with him, in fact, she loved nothing better than to go for cosy meals and show off her handsome Texan. She just enjoyed the first flush of a new relationship -- something she had never truly experienced before. And after a few frustrating kisses goodnight, she was glad that they had taken things slow. She had never been courted before, not even by Charles, and it was something she had enjoyed. She watched Aaron put away the last of the fruit in her refrigerator. Yes, she had enjoyed being courted, but now she knew they were ready to take the next step.

Aaron slowly reached into the brown bags and removed what was left of the fruit. Taking it to the fridge, he glanced back over his shoulder at Martha. She had a look on her face. He had started to learn what each of her looks meant over the months. He knew when she wanted to be held, he knew when she wanted to be fed, and he knew when to beat a hasty retreat out of her way! This look was something new, though. If he could characterize it, he would say it was halfway between wanting to be fed and wanting to be held. Putting the last of the food away he turned to her, grinning when he saw her still studying him. He wondered what they would do tonight. It was pretty much a nonverbal agreement that he would stay with her each night until she went to bed. Some nights he even lay beside her and held her untill she slept. He was beginning to find leaving her more and more difficult. He knew that the day she had found him in the safehouse she wasn't ready to commit to a new relationship but over the last few months, and especially the last month he had found himself in a new relationship with the woman of his dreams. He had even taken off his wedding band 5 weeks previously. He wanted her to know how dedicated he was to her. She, in turn, had long since removed her rings tying her to Charles. Moving closer toward her, he felt an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. Somehow he knew tonight would be different. Somehow he knew he would not be leaving her bed once she slept. Taking her in his arms, his eyes asked a question and hers responded willingly. 

Martha rolled over in bed trying to block out the sound from the ringing phone on her bedside table. Rolling over, she felt skin meet skin, and opened her eyes. "Good Morning," she murmured, reaching for him.  
"Good morning," he replied, taking her into his arms and bending his head to capture her lips. He ignored the persistant shrill ring of the phone and enjoyed the feeling of her lips on his, her skin touching his. "You want me to get that?" he asked in between kisses.

"Nope, let the machine get it. I can think of better uses for your hands," she purred in his ear, and shivered as indeed his hands began to travel down her body. Touching places that until last night she had thought would never be touched again. "You're not tired?" she asked between gasps of pleasure as his hands found their targets and pressed and carressed in all the right places. "I mean...Oh god!...We didn't get much sleep." Martha found that it was becoming harder to form a coherant sentence.

Sealing his lips over hers and flipping her over so he was on top of her, Aaron ran his tongue down her jaw line to her neck then to the delicate area of skin between her exposed breasts. Feeling her body react to every touch and carress he made, he looked up into her deep blue eyes. "Honey. I can think of better things to do with my time than sleep. Can't you?" He didnt wait for Martha to answer; instead he took the moan she gave as his answer, and slowly let his tongue drift lower and lower. 

"What time is it?" Martha murmured sleepily, her head lolling on his chest.

"Tired, honey?" Aaron smiled at her. Looking at her, he thought she could barely keep her eyes open.

"You are worth staying awake for." Martha whispered, but he could see her eyes begin to close. Wrapping his legs around hers, he pulled her as close as was humanly possible to him. Kissing the top of her sweat soaked hair, he whispered. "Sleep my precious."

"You'll still be here, right...?" Martha mumbled, sleep rapidly overtaking her.

"Where else would I go?" Aaron replied. Waiting for her breathing to become deeper, he, too, drifted into a deep sleep.

"I swear I'm gonna disconnect that phone," Martha muttered to herself as she reached over Aaron's sleeping form to grab the receiver. "Yes." She snapped into the phone.

"Mrs. Logan?"

"This is she." She pulled herself off Aaron and into a sitting position, resting her head against the head board.

"This is Kristin Schott from the Attorney General's office. We have some information for you. Regarding your husband.

"Ex-husband." Martha shot back.

"I'm sorry. Ex-husband. Maybe you would be able to come and see us this afternoon. I find these things are usually done better in person."  
Martha looked down the bed as Aaron stirred slightly. Lowering her voice, she replied. "Is this really necessary? You have my statements; in fact, I think you have close to twenty of them. I really have no desire to be involved in this any more until the trial."

"Well, that's just it, Mrs. Logan, this is about the trial. Would 4pm be suitable?"

Glancing at her bedside clock, Martha saw it was now 2pm. Sighing, she looked down at Aaron. If truth be told, she would rather spend the day in bed with him. But if this was to be her closure, she should get it over and done with. "4pm is fine, Ms. Schott."

"Thank you. We will see you then, the usual offices."

"Yes, yes, I know." Martha snapped; she had visited them enough over the last 6 months. Looking down at Aaron, she reached for his arm and gently shook it.

"Martha...I'm gonna need a little more rest before we..."  
Laughing, Martha shook Aaron fully awake. "No such luck, Casanova, we have a meeting to go to." 

"I really don't see what this is all about." Martha moaned again from the passenger seat.

"I told you, darlin', they probably want to go over your statement again. If they have set a date for the trial, the prosecutor needs to know you are ready. You do know this is not gonna be easy. You understand they will use our relationship to try to discredit you." Aaron looked away from the road quickly and was pleased when he saw Martha smile.

"Aaron, I have been building this up in my head for the last six months; I am ready for anything they throw at me. I just want to see Charles pay for what he did to David...and you. The sooner he is locked up, the happier I will be. Although after last night, I'd say i'm off to a good start on the happy front." Reaching for his leg, she giggled when he lurched forward as her hand travelled higher.

"Behave! If you're good, we'll stop by Mel's on the way home and have dinner in bed."

"Why, Agent Pierce, are you trying to bribe me to be good?" Martha purred.

"Yup."

"Okay, just as long as we're on the same page. It's working, by the way."

"You ready?" Aaron called to Martha over the top of the car.

"As I'll ever be." She slammed the car door and walked over to Aaron. 

"You'll stay with me, right?" she asked, the first hint that she was nervous crossing her face.

"As long as I can." He reached up and stroked her face softly. He wished this hadn't happened today of all days, he wanted the first time they made love to have been perfect, and it had been. But he couldn't help thinking that this afternoon was going to put a mark on the day. Reaching for her hand he held it to his chest. "And if I can't be in the room with you, I'll be right here."

Martha looked up, shocked at his public display of affection on the grounds of a government building. "I love you, Aaron. I know this probably isn't the best time to say it. But there never seems to be a good time. But I want you to know I love you."

"Martha. You know I love you, too. I have loved you since the first day I met you. I never thought I would find someone like you. You told me once that you were lucky to have me. Well, I want you to know that I'm lucky. I am lucky to have found someone as wonderful as you to share my life with, and that is what I want. To share my life with you. I love you, too." He leaned down and placed a kiss on her trembling lips. It was not as passionate as others they had shared, but to Martha it was the sweetest thing she had ever experienced. 

"Okay. Let's get this over with. So we can move on," she said, her voice betraying a slight tremor.

Martha sat in the front seat of the car. Her face was white and Aaron could see that she was trembling, and in 80 degree heat he knew it wasn't because she was cold. He watched her wringing her hands and felt useless. After what they had just heard, he wanted to punch something, so he could only imagine what she must be feeling. He opened his mouth, but could find no words. Silently he started the car and began the short drive home. 

"House arrest?"

"I'm sorry?" Martha had spoken so softly Aaron had not heard what she had said.

"I mean, I knew he was under house arrest until the trial...but then...I thought..." her voice trailed off as she gazed out of the window. "So it was all for nothing...for nothing."

Aaron looked over at her and could see her eyes darting from side to side, she looked agitated and her breathing had started coming in short shallow gasps. Concerned he swung the car on to the hard shoulder and looked over at her. "Martha...you need to calm down...breathe...please, honey, take deep breaths." He placed his hands over hers, which were clasped tightly in her lap. He was worried to find them as cold as ice. Taking them in his, he rubbed them to try to get the circulation going again. And if he was honest, because he needed to feel as if he was giving her some comfort. After what they had just been told, he could understand her mood. But it didn't mean it frightened him any less.

They had been shown into the main office of the Attorney General and after the usual pleasantries and offers of refreshments, they had been told that Logan would not be facing any criminal charges for his actions during the days events. He would, however, remain under house arrest for an undisclosed period of time. But this could be done at Logan's Retreat. It had been decided that for the good of the country and the survival of the new administration, that Logan's part in the deaths of David Palmer, Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler would not be disclosed in court or otherwise. Aaron had listened to the A.G. talking to them and could feel his anger bubbling inside him. When he eventually dared look over at Martha, he was surprised to find her sitting quite calmly. In fact she looked as if she was at one of her society functions. This had unnerved him. To the outsider, he knew they would think Martha was taking it all in. Maybe even that she was relieved she would not have to face her ex- husband in court. But to Aaron who had sat with her many a night after the events of that day he knew otherwise. He knew that her reaction to the news would be to switch off, to shield herself from the information being relayed to her. It was her defense mechanism. To avoid a full blown panic attack, she would quite simply shut down. It was if she had an off switch on her and at the moment someone had flicked it.

Turning back to her, he continued to rub her hands. "Martha. What do you want to do?"

She didn't move from the position she was in, just stared straight ahead out of the window, but in a small voice said, "Just take me home, Aaron. I want to go home."

Twenty minutes later, Aaron pulled the car into the driveway of her house, where only hours before they had spent the morning making love. Martha reached for the door handle and finally looked over at Aaron. "I need to be on my own for a while." 

"Martha, I'm not sure that's a good ..."

"I'm sorry. But I have to be alone just for a bit." Her voice was in monotone and the expression on her face did not change. She looked in all intents and purposes like a china doll. Without saying another word, she got out of the car and made her way to the front door. Aaron watched her as she opened the door and without a backward glance she went inside. Aaron sat in the car watching the door for a few seconds then drove to the bottom of her drive. She might have wanted him to leave, but he was staying close by. 

"Mr. Pierce...Mr. Pierce..." Aaron woke from the fitful sleep he had drifted into an hour or so before by someone knocking on the car window. Shaking his head, he looked out of the closed window and noticed that it had started to get dark. Glancing at his watch, he saw he had been sitting in the car for over 4 hours. Still slightly disoriented, he looked out of the window again and noticed the agent that had woken him. Winding down the window, he recognized Agent Hemlett, Martha's lead agent. 

"Agent? What is it?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't sure what to do. It's Mrs. Logan, she...well, I think she needs help, and I wasn't sure who to call. I saw you waiting here and thought you'd know what to do."

Before the agent had finshed his sentence, Aaron was out of the car and started running up the long drive. "What happened?" He shouted back at Agent Hemlett who was struggling to keep up. Without waiting for an answer, he reached the front door. Fishing in his pocket for his keys, he unlocked the door and went into the house. He could hear the sound of smashing glass from the hallway. Slowly making his way though the living area he looked aound he noticed an empty bottle of gin laying on its side on the coffee table and several cigarettes, still half-smouldering in a makeshift ashtray. Picking up the potpourri holder that was doubling as an ashtray, he tipped the contents into the fireplace. Following the sound of breaking glass, he walked into the kitchen. What he saw made his blood run cold. He stood still and silent in the doorway and looked at the woman he loved.

She was standing next to one of the kitchen units -- one that had, until a few minutes ago, held her best dinner china . Now it lay shattered on the floor. Without making any sudden movements, Aaron walked round the breakfast bar, his feet crunching on broken glass as he made his way slowly toward her. She held a large bowl in her hands and she tossed it like a football from one hand to the other. She was muttering to herself, but Aaron was too far away to hear what she was saying. He opened his mouth to call to her, but before he had a chance, she lifted the bowl high in the air and hurled it at the stone floor. Aaron winced as he saw shards of china fly up around her, his stomach lurched as he looked closely at her face and hands and saw the blood trickling down from numerous cuts. Her eyes were wild and her hair mussed. Opening his mouth again he calmly spoke, " Martha." She didn't look up from her position, instead reached into the cupboard and pulled out a decorative plate. Edging closer toward her, he began to hear what she was muttering to herself.   
"House arrest...joke...to think ...keep him busy...his hands all over me...He will be punished." Lifting up the plate, she again threw it at the floor, laughing maniacally as it broke into a hundred pieces.

Aaron finally reached her side, he looked and saw Agent Hemlett stood in the doorway. He was watching the scene with a look of fear on his face. "Shall I call..." He began.

"No, it's fine; just leave us, please." Aaron watched as the Agent left the room. Aaron turned back to Martha. He wasn't afraid of her her; he was more concerned about the harm she was doing to herself. Taking another step closer to her, he called her name again, softly. "Martha, it's me. It's Aaron." 

She turned to look at him for the first time since he had entered the room. Her voice was clear, slightly slurred but clear. "I know it's you. I'm not crazy."

"What are you doing, honey?"

"What does it look like?" She reached into the cupboard and Aaron jumped as yet another plate hit the floor. "I'm redecorating. See this?" She gestured to the pieces of china strewn around her. "Silver wedding present." I don't know why I kept it in the first place. I just liked the pattern. You know?"

Aaron took another step toward her and this time held her arm. "Martha, you're hurt. Let me look at you."

He jumped again as Martha let out a piercing laugh. "Look at me, you don't want to look at me. I'm dirty. I need to shower, yes that's it. I need to clean up." She looked around the kitchen her eyes wild. As she looked back at Aaron, he was concerned when her eyes couldn't quite focus on him.

"Martha. Come with me. Lets go into the den, and I can look at you. Okay?" He gently took her arm and was relieved when she looked at him again this time some recognition sparked in her eyes. She looked at the chaos that surrounded her and tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Aaron. I made a mess," she stammered.

"Yeah, honey. You sure did, but we can fix it. We can fix it. Let's just check you out first, okay?"

"Okay." She grabbed onto his hand and allowed him to carefully lead her out of the kitchen into the den. She stumbled a few times, but Aaron put that down to the gin she had consumed. Without being asked, she sat on the couch and looked up at him. "I'm scared, Aaron."

He knelt in front of her and took her blood-streaked hands in his. "What are you scared of, honey? I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I just want to make sure you're not hurt. I'm going to go get some water and some band aids and we can clean you up, okay?" He moved to stand up, but she grabbed at his hands.

"Don't leave me, Aaron, you said you wouldn't leave me."

"I'm not going to leave you, Martha, but I need to see about your hands, okay?" He turned her smaller hands over in his to see the damage she had done to herself. Relieved he only found small superficial cuts on her hand, he was more concerned about the gash above her eye. "Martha. I will be right back, alright." He smoothed her damp hair off her forehead and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Alright," she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry Aaron, I don't know what to tell you Mrs Logan is not availible." Agent Hemlett sighed as he heard his friend curse on the other end of the phone.

"Damn it Bill it's been three days. You have to get her to come to the phone." Aaron paced around his small kitchen. He had brought the place once he knew Martha planned to settle in Los Angeles. Though boxes still littered each room. In the few months he had been there, aside from sleeping he had spent all of his time with Martha.

"I'm sorry Aaron but short of dragging her out of her room I don't see what else I can do. She hasn't left her bedroom since the other night. In fact if we didn't hear her moving around in there we would have broken the door down before now. But she's not stupid. She ignores us until she knows she can't any longer then tells us she is fine and wants to be alone. Truth is we're all worried about her. But until someone above me tells me otherwise I have to respect her wishes. You more than anyone know that." Bill stared out of the window as he waited for Aaron to reply. Silence. "Aaron? You there?"

"Just...just tell her I called. Just do that for me Bill. Shout it through the door if you have to. Just make sure she knows. Just...just..." Aaron stopped as he thought about his next words. He knew the agents on Martha's detail knew about their relationship. But Aaron had always been a private man. Inside he was bursting with the knowledge that a woman like Martha loved him, but he had never been one to brag to his friends about his love life. Deciding desperate times called for desperate measures he finished his sentence. "Just tell her I love her. Ok Bill. Just tell her I love her." Without waiting for a response he hung up the phone and slumped onto the dining chair. He didn't understand. He thought he knew Martha, he knew they had only been dating for 6 months but it felt like so much longer. He felt as is he had known her all his life and he had thought the feeling was mutual. He smiled to himself as he remembered only a week ago. A week. It felt like a lifetime. They had gone for dinner. One of the rare occasions they ate out. He had ordered the steak. Martha had teased him, something she took great pleasure in doing often, said he never ventured out of his comfort zone when it came to his food. Chuckling to himself he had not replied when the waitress had asked him how he liked his meat. Without skipping a beat Martha had replied for him. Something so small, but he remembered how it had made him feel warm inside that the woman sitting opposite him knew how he liked his steak. Now he didn't know what to think. It had been three days. Three days and two nights since he had left Martha's house. Left was maybe to mild a word. Thrown out was more like it. Dropping his head in his hands he thought back to two night ago.

"Don't leave me, Aaron, you said you wouldn't leave me."

"I'm not going to leave you, Martha, but I need to see about your hands, okay?""Martha. I will be right back, alright." He smoothed her damp hair off her forehead and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Alright," she whispered.

Glancing back at her before he left the room, his heart ached as he watched her sink back into her couch. Her hair was wet and plastered against her face, which had taken on a ghostly appearence. Her face was white and her makeup had smudged under her eyes and left her with black rings adding to her already haunted look. Tearing himself away, he left the room.

Martha let her head fall back and tried to focus on the light above her. Rubbing her fists to her eyes she sat forward and looked at her hands. Dried blood ,mixed with fresh tears, began to smear the crimson and she found herself fascinated by the colors. Sharply turning toward the door she wondered why she was alone. Aaron had said he wouldn't leave her. Pulling herself to her feet she stumbled as her feet hit the rug. Making her way to the door she stopped as she glanced in the mirror above the fireplace. _So this was her life? This was what she expected Aaron to stay with? _Reaching out she touched her reflection. She felt the cool pane of the glass against her hot skin and trailed her finger around the frame of her face. _Ugly _she thought to herself. As if burnt she pulled her finger back and began to smooth down the hair that half pulled back in a loose knot was now tangled around her face. Reaching under her eyes she rubbed away the smudged mascara. _She had to look her best, she knew if she didn't Charles would be upset...No wait, Charles wasn't here. She laughed to herself. Aaron was here. But he wasn't there. Where was he? _Stepping back from the mirror she winced as the hardwood of the coffee table made contact with her shin. _He'd left. She knew he would. Knew it would only be a matter of time. After all everyone left eventually. Didn't they? _

"Martha." Aaron stared from the doorway and looked at her. She was hovering in the middle of the room, her hands moving through the air, as if trying to catch hold of something. Or someone. "Martha, darlin', I got you some water, some cotton. We're gonna clean up those wounds right." He set the bowl on the table and turned to face her. His stomach turned again as he realised she was still gesticulating and her mouth was moving silently. He wasn't sure if she had even noticed him come back into the room. Stepping into her space he took her hands gently and pulled them to his side. Gazing into her bloodshot yet still beautiful eyes he found himself moving too, turning his head to follow hers to capture her eyes. Finally seeing a spark of recognition in them he smiled. "Hey there." He whispered reaching up to cup her flushed cheek in his hand. He was relieved when she smiled back.

"You came back." Martha whispered.

"I never went away."

"I was in here, you weren't here, I thought you'd left." Martha grinned suddenly. "But you came back."

Aaron gently squeezed her hand and led her back to the safety of the couch. "Ok honey you're gonna have to sit ok, we're gonna clean up those cuts." Waiting until she has sunk back into the seat, he reached for a cotton bud and dipped it in the tepid water. Moving it gently he started on her hands, which were tightly gripping his. "Martha, honey. You're gonna have to let go a little." Feeling her grip loosen, he saw her fall back, eyes closed. He hoped she would fall asleep, or pass out from the gin she had drank, whichever came first. He noticed some smaller cuts around the soft skin of her face. They would need cleaning too and he knew they'd hurt like a bitch.

Martha squinted as the sun shone in her eyes. She blinked and wondered why she hadn't shut the curtains. She never forgot. If there was one thing Martha Logan did not like, it was being woken before she was good and ready. Good and ready usually occured sometime around ten. Groaning she opened her eyes to the almost blinding light and realised she wasn't in bed. In fact she wasn't even in her pyjamas. A scan of her surroundings told her she was in her den, and she wasn't alone. Curled against the far end of the couch was Aaron. The sun hitting his red hair cast an almost halo like aura around him. Martha smiled and winced as a pang of pain shot through her left cheek. Reaching up she felt something rough to the touch. Standing she walked to the mirror. She gasped as the pain inside sprung to life once again. A stabbing pain on the left side of her chest. Reaching up to her cheeks she touched the makeshift stiches Aaron had so lovingly applied only a few hours before. The pain increased. But now it moved to fill her whole body. She breathed slowly not wanting to wake Aaron. _Ok Martha breathing slowly works remember, you are not having a heart attack, you are not dying. This is a panic attack. _Inhaling for the count of three and exhaling to the count of five as she had been taught in Vermont. She was relived when the stabbing pains subsided to a dull ache. Unclenching her fists which had been pushed against her breast. She moved to the window. Yes the stabbing had gone but what was left. She felt nothing. She felt empty. Looking down at her hands she noticed Aaron had bandaged the left one. With the other hand she pulled at the dressing. Letting the bandage fall to the floor. Martha looked at the cuts on the palm of her hand. Some had healed over, some were in the creases of her skin and though not bleeding were red and stood out on her pale skin. Holding the hand up to her face she poked at one of the cuts with her finger. She felt a twinge as her skin touched the open wound. The tightness in her chest seem to fade again She poked again, harder this time. Watching as the wound again began to ooze a small trickle of blood. Fascinated she watched as the crimson snaked down her palm. At the last mintue she clasped her hand into a fist stopping the blood from hitting the ground. She smiled. Opening the hand she poked this time at one of the closed wounds, slowly sliding her fingernail along the fresh skin she again felt the knot in her stomach ease slightly as the wound opened and it too began to bleed.

"Martha. Honey. You ok?" Aaron squinted against the bright sun.

Martha turned, hands behind her back and grinned at him. "I'm fine. Made a fool of myself last night huh?" She grinned at him.

"You were upset Martha. I think there was a time there yesturday when I wanted to throw a plate or two myself." He stood and in two paces was stood in front of her.

"Yes." Martha took a step back from him. "Difference is, you didn't do it, whereas I gave new meaning to the phrase "Bull in a china shop" Tell me do I have anything left to eat off of? Or are we gonna be eating out of takeout cartons until I get to Nordstrom's?" She smiled again, she felt like her skin around her jaw may actually crack.

"Martha?" Aaron reached for her hand and gently brought it to his chest stroking the soft skin. "It's alright. You can get mad. After what you've been through I would be more concerned if you didn't. It's not fair. What you did, what you went through. I understand that you feel it's all been for nothing."

Martha furrowed her brow slightly and stared back at the man she knew she loved. The man she loved. She loved Aaron. She couldn't go back to how she was. She wouldn't. Feeling the familiar tightness in her chest begin to grow again, she swallowed it down and pasted her beautific smile back on her face. "I'm fine Aaron. Really." She laughed at his doubtful face. "I am fine" she enunciated each word clearly. "Last night was...well I was drunk. You know I've barely touched the stuff since...well since that day and I had one too many. I think I was entitled." She gave him a small wink. Without thinking she brought her other hand from behind her back and clasped his in hers. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Martha. Your hand what happened. Dammit, I thought I did that tight. Here let me get it." Guiding her back to the couch he sat her down and took her bloodied hand in his. Cleaning it gently with the water now cold from only a few hours earlier he studied her face. She did look fine. She was smiling and though she winced slightly as the disenfected water hit her wounds she seemed, well happy. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he hadn't given her enough credit. Maybe she really was strong enough now to deal with what had happened. And if she faltered. Well he'd be right there to catch her. "There all done." He smiled softly placing her hand back in her lap.

"My Florence Nightingale." Martha purred edging closer to him on the couch.

"Now thats a name we won't say too loudly in front of your other agents. Ok?" Aaron backed away slightly from her. He couldn't put his finger on it. But something didn't feel right. "Now why dont you take yoursefl up those stairs, close those black out things you call curtains and get some proper sleep."

"Aw, really. Cos you know I was thinking of other things we could do." Martha moved so her body was firmly pressed into his side. She waited for that tingle that she felt when she was close to him. She waited.

"Martha, I really think you need to get some rest. Some real rest. Not a few hours on the sofa." Stroking her cheek he went to stand to help her upstairs. She stood with him not letting even air come between their bodies.

"But I am fine. I told you." She ran her tongue slowly out the rim of his ear and felt the familiar shudder from him and waited for the warm feeling to engulf her. She waited.

Aaron turned his body so she was in his arms now facing him. He looked into her eyes. She didn't look tired. But the spark, that glint that turned her eyes from blue, into a pool of indigo was missing. "I just think that maybe..." He stopped as he found her lips firmly planted against his and her tongue seeking entry to his mouth. Something else he'd never let on to the other agents but kissing Martha did quite literally make him go weak at the knees. Feeling his body melt against hers he found his earlier arguement forgotten as he kissed her back.

Martha could feel him, she could feel his mouth hot against hers. His tongue battling for control with hers. His body pressed against hers. She could feel him. But she couldn't _feel_. The rush from being around him wasn't there. The tingles up her spine as his fingers moved under her shirt. She couldn't feel. Feeling her hands move to his chest she pushed him. Hard. Watching the confused look pass over his face. The hurt as she pushed back her hair and retreated to the far side of the room. She waited for the remorse, the guilt to come to her. She waited. Nothing. "I think you should go." She monotoned.

Still catching his breath and trying to think of what he had done between bandaging her hand and kissing her. He moved toward her. Stopping when she retreated further away. "Martha. It's alright. You're tired you need to sleep, why don't..."

"I'm sorry maybe I should rephrase that. I want you to go." Staring at him with cold eyes, she watched as he picked up his coat. She listened as he muttered he would call her later. She watched until he had walked out of the room. She listened as she heard the front door slam. She waited for something to come alive inside of her, something to make her run after him and bury herself in his arms. She waited.

Aaron stared at the bare walls of his kitchen, it had been thirteen hours. Thirteen hours since Martha had asked him, well ordered him, to leave. In that time he had made thirteen phone calls to the house. One every hour since he got home that morning. Thirteen times he had been told, first by Agent Harris then by Bill that Mratha simply did not want to speak to him. No that wasn't strictly true. She hadn't uttered those words. He pushed himself back from the table and resumed pacing the room. If she had told him she didn't want to speak to him, that would be something. This. Well this was nothing. The only clue he had that she was even still in her house were the words of the agents that heard movements in her room. Stopping suddenly he reached for the phone. He was going to call Bill back, have him break the door down. They had heard her mving inside the room, sure, but she could have drunk herself into a coma, her bandages could need redressing. Punching the familiar number into the phone he stopped. Slamming the phone back on its cradle he remembered. This wasn't the White House. Martha's security did not have to have a visual on her periodically. She was a civilian now. A civilian with a detail, sure but certainly one that was not going to listen to the urgings of a worried boyfriend. Certainly not one that was going to break down the formner First Lady's bedroom door. Slumping back on to the hard chair, Aaron sighed. If time was what she neeeded then he would give her time. Last night he had been scared, scared that she was going to harm herself. But when she had asked him to leave this moring, she had appeared rational, calm almost. Reaching for the Whiskey bottle he poured himself a large measure. If time was what she needed, time was what he'd give her. He'd take a few shots and go to his bed. His body suddenly feeling tired as if just realising he had only slept for three hours in the last two days. A few hours sleep and he would see her in the morning.

Martha stared at the clock on her bedside table. She blinked 23.37. That couldn't be right. She had looked at the clock well over an hour ago and it had read 23.27. Pulling herself into a sitting position she picked up the clock no it wasn't even midnight yet. If she could make it to midnight she told herself, then she would go to sleep. Lying back against the headrest she allowed her eyes to close. She could do this it was only twenty minutes. If she could make it twenty minutes then it would be a new day. A new day with a new start. She relaxed slightly and began to list the things she would do when she woke up. She would call Aaron. That would be the first thing. She would call him and they would go back to the park they had visited only days before. Maybe even stop by Mels. She thought back to what seemed like months ago, before her visit to the Attorny Generals Office. Before her life felt as if it had come to a red light and she had been waiting forever for green. Letting her hand slide down the bed sheets she felt the small container in her hand and rolled it between her fingers. It reminded her of a time when for a publicity stunt she had gone with Charles back when he was a Senator_. A Red Cross event. They had been recruiting at the Blood Drive all day getting people to sign up to donate, when Charles had come up with the idea that for them both to be the first to donate. That would make the local rags front page. Never mind the fact that he knew she was near phobic of needles. Martha had smiled and agreed, while inside she was trembling. She remembered the sweet nurse that had helped her on to the bed. She had given her a plastic tube to roll in her hand. She obviously saw the look of confusion on Martha's face because she smiled and moved to whisper in her ear. "Its just to get the blood circulating Mrs Logan." Maybe seeing Martha's face visably pale she squeezed her hand gently, "Of course it also helps people who maybe aren't so keen on whats going on. You just focus on rolling that tube and time will fly by." So Martha had she had shut her eyes, after smiling for the camera, and squeezed and rolled on the tube. Her brain focused just on that. The nurse was right, before she knew it she was being given a cup of juice and helped off the bed. _Feeling the plastic in her hand now, Martha gave it one last roll in her fingers and opened her eyes. If she had made it to midnight she would go to sleep. She slowly opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. 23.45. Sighing deeply she swung her legs over the edge of her bed and moved to the door. Opening it she peered across the hall to find Agent Hemlett staring back at her.

"Mrs Logan. Anything I can do for you ma'am." Bill smiled gently at her.

"No, thank you Agent Hemlett. I just wanted you to know I was going to sleep." Martha clutched the plastic tube in her hand. "I'm very tired." She trurned to close the door behind her.

"Mrs Logan, I uh, well that is. Mrs Logan, Agen...I mean Aaron called a few hours ago. He wanted me to tell you." Bill coughed and felt his cheeks flush. This was certainly not in his job description. He felt like the lead actors best friend in one of those chick flicks his wife loved. Clearing his throat. He stopped and looked Martha in the eye. "He wanted me to tell you that he loved you."

Martha kept her eyes on Bill, as she waited for the words to spark some feeling inside her. The feeling that she got when Aaron had said those words to her. She waited.


	3. Chapter 3

Martha rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock. A new day had arrived. A new day for her to do the things she had promised herself only minutes before. Call Aaron, maybe arrange a picnic at the park they had visited only a day before. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she let her head fall to her knees. She knew what she should do, knew what she needed to do. Yet somehow she couldn't make herself want to do them. Standing, she slowly walked to the bathroom and turned on the light, squinting as her eyes adjusted from hours lying in the dark. Reaching for the faucet, she filled the small basin with cold water, splashing it on her cheeks._ "I look like a wedding cake." _Stumbling backwards, she winced as her back hit the cold tile of the wall. _"David Palmer was assassinated."_ Blindly reaching for a towel, Martha wiped at her face, trying to erase the voices she could hear. Voices as clear to her now as on _that _day. Pressing her hands to her ears, she stumbled back into the bedroom_."I'll pump you so full of drugs, you won't know your own name" _"Stop!" Martha shouted, her voice bringing her back to the present. Feeling the tears burning behind her eyes, she curled herself into a chair and finally let them come. Staring out into the darkness, Martha finally allowed herself to cry and now she had started, she found she could not stop.

Agent Hemlett turned into the backyard for the third time that night and found himself looking up at Mrs. Logan's window. Aaron's earlier call had stirred something in him. He had spoken to Mrs. Logan, and she had seemed rational enough. But there was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Unfortunately suspicions did not give him the right to intrude on his charge. As he turned away from the window, he jumped as a light came on. If it had been anyone but Mrs. Logan, he would not have paid it any attention, but he knew that once she had closed her curtains to her room, no light was getting in. And as a result, no light got out. Again he felt a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right, but knew that Mrs. Logan not closing her curtains did not give him leave to go and investigate. Glancing at the window once more, he sighed and continued his circuit of the yard.

Martha turned on both bedside lamps. She didn't want to be in the dark. She needed light and lots of it. Glancing at the phone, she again thought of Aaron. Would he be asleep? She knew he had called her throughout the day, but she could not bring herself to talk to him. Aaron, who had been at her side since David's funeral. Aaron, who had held her as she woke in a cold sweat reliving the events of that day. But she knew that Aaron had seen her other side the night before and it scared her; she was sure it had scared him._ "I think he was killed because of something he was about to tell me"_ Her own voice echoed in her ears. Pacing the floor, she remembered back. What if she could have prevented David's death? What if she was more insistent when he had called her the night before his death, made him tell her what he so obviously wanted to talk to her about. Would things have been different? Could she have stopped the death and destruction that had followed? Charles had received house arrest for his crimes. What if his crimes were her crimes too? She wanted to see Charles tried, convicted for treason.His crimes, in some states, would have carried a penalty of death. Did he deserve to die for the pain and suffering he had caused, and if so, what about her? Surely if she could have stopped everything by talking to David more that night, she was in some part to blame. Did she deserve to live where so many others had died? She stopped and for the first time all night her mind cleared. It was if she had stepped out of a fog and suddenly everything seemed clear. She could do something, she could give the loved ones of those killed closure. If her husband was not to be tried for his crimes, she would be tried, convicted and sentenced for hers. Pushing her hair from her face, she walked to the mirror and gazed at her reflection. If those in power would not give justice, she would do it herself.

Agent Hemlett yawned as he stood at his post at the front door. Glancing at his watch, he groaned as he realized his relief would not arrive for at least another four hours. Stretching, he decided that he would take a spin of the grounds again. His muscles could do with some exercise. As he reached the back yard, he glanced up at Mrs. Logan's window and was relieved to see the familiar darkness staring back. He hoped she was finally getting some rest. He knew he shouldn't, but he thought he would call Aaron after his shift, just to let him know she was now sleeping. And maybe tomorrow things would be back to normal with the two of them. Feeling more relaxed, he decided to sit on the patio furniture for five minutes to have a smoke. Strictly speaking it was against regulations, but on his first week on Mrs. Logan's new detail, he had sneaked a crafty cigarette in and nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized Mrs. Logan was doing the same. She had laughed and whispered at him not to tell Aaron and she would turn a blind eye to his habit. Lighting up, he sat back and gazed at the star-filled sky. Things would be better tomorrow. He knew it.

Martha shivered as the cold night air hit her skin. Holding her purse tightly under her arm, she quickly glanced out her front door. She had watched as her agent had sat for his smoke in her back yard and knew she had at least five minutes to get out of the house undetected. Wondering if she should go back for a jacket she realized it really was of little consequence now. She wouldn't need it soon. Wouldn't feel the cold where she was going. Picking up her pace, she got to her car. Shifting it into neutral, she let the car silently roll down her drive until she met the street. Turning the keys in the ignition, she began to drive. She knew where she was going, knew it would only take her minutes to arrive. Knew that once they noticed she was gone, justice would be served and she could finally sleep in peace. Soooo sad!!

"What do you mean she's gone?" Aaron shouted into the phone.

"I'm sorry, Agent Pierce, I don't know how it happened. I was doing my usual rounds of the house. I thought she was sleeping. It wasn't until I noticed her car was gone. That gave me a reason to enter her room. I don't know what to say, Aaron. I thought she was getting some rest." Agent Hemlett stood on the drive at the empty space where his charges car should be. "I called it in; they're sending more men over to scout the area, but to be honest, Aaron, she could be anywhere. Cops put an APB on the car."

"Does it look like there was a struggle? I mean you don't think..." Aaron trailed off, not able to voice the terrifying thoughts running through his head.

"Honestly, I don't think so -- her purse is gone and aside from some photographs in her room everything looks pretty much normal. I mean, Mrs. Logan is not really known for being immaculately tidy, so I don't really know."

Cutting him off, Aaron pulled on his sweats and shouted, "I'm coming over, I'll be there in five." Half dressed, still pulling on his sweater, Aaron was out the door and halfway to the elevator.

Martha walked, feeling the dew soak through her slippers, she walked.

"Okay, run this by me one more time," Aaron said through gritted teeth. Agent Hemlett could feel the breath on his face as the taller man stood in front of him. "She was upset; I called over thirteen times to tell you she wasn't herself. And now she's gone."

"Aaron, I know you're upset, but I spoke to Mrs. Logan before midnight. She said she was going to sleep. I checked the lights in her room, and when they went off I assumed she had gone to bed."

Aaron spoke softly, "You assumed, you assumed!" Agent Hemlett took a step back as his friend's voiced raised to a shout. "You never assume, you check. You make sure that the person _you _are meant to be protecting is safe. You make sure that she doesn't leave her house at 3am unescorted to God only knows where." Reaching out he grabbed the Agent's jacket. Taking a step closer he growled, "But no -- you assumed!"

Agent Hemlett gently took Aaron's hand from his jacket. "Aaron I know you are upset, but you are not thinking like an agent. You are thinking like the woman you love is missing, and I understand that, but yelling at me is not going to get her back. Now without sounding presumptuous, you know Mrs. Logan's bedroom better than most." He stopped as Aaron raised a menacing eyebrow at him. "I'm just saying, man, maybe there is something there that will give us a clue as to where she has gone. Now take a deep breath, get your damn hands off me, and let's go see if we can find anything. Okay?"

Aaron's face softened and he released his grasp on Hemlett's jacket. He knew it made sense. If anyone knew Martha, he did -- and he was damn sure he was going to find her.

Martha walked until she found the spot she had been looking for. It wasn't as easy in the dark, but she knew she would find it. Slowly she lowered herself to the ground and opened up her purse.

Aaron sat on the bed he had started to think of as part his and looked at the pictures strewn across the throw. Martha and Charles' wedding photo, pictures of David Palmer, and more recent photographs of himself and Martha. He studied them closely, looking at them over and over, trying to see if there was some logic to them. Some pattern he wasn't seeing. Some clue as to where his Martha was. He knew there was something there he just wasn't seeing it.

Martha lay back and gaze at the stars above her. She often enjoyed doing this when she had suffered from insomnia. She found solace that there was something else that was uncontrollable. Something unexplained, unexplored. Yet always there. She relaxed into the feeling that the stars would always be constant, never changing. One of the few things in her life she could rely on staying just the way they were. She lay back and stared, her eyes struggling to remain open. Until finally with one last look at the stars, she allowed them to softly close.

"What are you trying to tell me Martha? What am I supposed to see?" Aaron muttered to himself. He looked at the pictures again until he couldn't take it anymore and threw them off the bed. Rubbing his eyes, trying to stave off the headache that was starting, he noticed a small card flutter to the floor. Hidden under the pictures it now rested on the top. Reaching down Aaron picked it up. It was a business card with one name on the front. Mel's. Aaron felt like the floodgates in his mind had opened as he remembered the last day Martha was truly happy. The day she had taken him to Mel's, told him of David's love of the shop, and of the park where they had spent many a summer's day. Clasping the card in one hand, he ran for the stairs, nearly knocking over Agent Hemlett.

"Aaron, where are you going? Aaron!"

"I know where she is, dear god, I know where Martha is." Aaron didn't stop until he reached his car and pulled out of the driveway.

Ten minutes later, Aaron pulled into the small parking lot of the gardens Martha had taken him only two days earlier. Two days. It seemed a lifetime. Leaving the car door open he ran into the darkness of the trees. The lake – that's where they had sat as she had opened her heart about their dear friend. Aaron broke into a sprint as he rounded the corner toward the lake. What he saw made him stop dead, his heart tightening in his chest. Feeling like he was walking through mud, he approached her. "Oh, Martha." He reached down to her, her eyes closed, her hair framing her face like a halo in the moonlight. Lifting her hand, his heart stopped. Even in her unconscious state, her small hand gripped the bottle of pills that now was empty.


	4. Chapter 4

"Martha!" Aaron shook her for what seemed like the tenth time. "Martha, honey. Please. You have to wake up." Feeling the dew on the grass soak through his trouser leg, he lifted her lifeless body into his arms. The grass was wet; he could feel the back of her thin blouse was wet. He didn't want her to get cold. Hugging her to him, Aaron again looked at her face -- eyes closed, with a hint of a smile on her face. She looked almost peaceful. A thought flittered into Aaron's mind that this was probably the most peaceful he had seen her look in the last two days. Shaking himself back to the moment, he realized she wasn't sleeping. She wasn't going to wake up to the smell of him preparing her breakfast in the morning. She wasn't going to smile at him as he handed her her morning cup of coffee. If he didn't pull himself together, she was going to die here, in the dark, in his arms. Laying her on the grass, Aaron felt for a pulse in her wrist. Nothing. Gently tilting her head back, he pressed his index finger to the side of her neck. It wasn't much but it was there, the faint flicker of life. Still cradling her head, he reached into his jacket pocket. "This is Special Agent Aaron Pierce, I need an ambulance now. This is security code 24853-M-L." Slipping back into Agent mode, Aaron didn't stop to think that officially he was no longer in the service. The voice on the other end of the line stuttered.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that, sir."

Aaron glanced down at Martha. He was sure he had felt her move. "Martha, baby. Come on, stay with me." Nothing.

"Sir, are you there? I need you to repeat clearance code."

Not letting go of her, Aaron returned his attention to the phone. "I repeat: I need an ambulance at Elysian Park by the lake. I have 24853-M-L down, requesting immediate medical attention. I have a suspected overdose." Reaching for the bottle still locked in a death grip in Martha's hand, he managed to turn the label and turning his phone toward it the glow of the screen allowed him to read. "I have an empty bottle of Luminal. No, I don't know how many were in there."

"Sir, I need you to check. Does she have any other pills with her--in her purse maybe?"

Aaron again gently lowered Martha to the ground and blindly grasped for her purse. Emptying the contents onto the ground, his heart sank when another bottle fell out. He squinted to read the label. "Yes, I have another empty bottle of Mebaral. I don't know, somewhere between two and three hours. I have a pulse, but it's weak. No. Not responsive. Thank you." Slamming the phone shut, Aaron reached for the woman who lay before him. Cradling her in his arms, he rocked her softly. Why had he left her alone, he knew she wasn't in her right mind after hearing about Logan's house arrest. Why hadn't he asked Rob to make sure he looked in on her? Feeling the sting of tears, he allowed them to fall freely. What had he done? What had she done? Had they really come this far, overcome everything that had occurred on that day, for it all to end now? This night, in the dark, in the silence?

Martha was lying in the sun. She could feel the warmth on her face. Keeping her eyes closed, she allowed herself to enjoy the peace and quiet. She allowed herself to bask in the sun's all-embracing warmth. Frowning slightly, she was annoyed to feel the drops of rain fall onto her face. Why was it raining? Blinking her eyes she could hear something. Muffled. Almost as if someone were shouting at her from inside the house. She was comfortable though, she didn't want to move. Her limbs felt heavy and she tried to block the sounds out. But damn the rain, she flinched as yet another drop hit her face.

"Martha? Martha? Can you hear me?" Aaron pulled back from the hold he had on her and gazed at her still face. He had been resting on her cheek. His tears falling onto her face and he was sure he had felt her move. Not much, was it just a reflex? Stroking her face, he gently but firmly tapped her cheeks. "Martha, darlin'. Please. It's me. It's Aaron." Looking down at her face in the moonlight, his heart flipped when he saw her eyes flicker. "That's it, come on. Open your eyes for me."

Martha could hear him now. It was Aaron. Why was he trying to wake her? He normally let her sleep until she woke. Trying to ignore him, she tried to find the sleep she so sought. She could feel his hands on her face, and while normally she would be happy to reciprocate, no matter how hard she tried she couldn't move her arms to meet his hands.

"Martha!"

"What? What is it?"

Hearing her voice, though slurred, Aaron thought it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard. "Martha, I need you to open your eyes for me. Honey, can you do that? Open your eyes, talk to me." Staring intently at her face, looking for the slightest movement, he was both relieved and afraid when her eyelids fluttered and eventually opened. Her once bright blue eyes were darting wildly from side to side, unable to focus.

Martha couldn't see. She knew she had opened her eyes, but she couldn't see. The warmth she had felt only seconds before had gone and she was now cold. She could hear Aaron's voice, even smell his scent; she knew he was nearby, but she couldn't find him. Blinking her eyes, she wondered when it had gotten so dark, when just moments before she sat in the blazing sun. She tried once again to lift her hand grasping for what, she didn't know. Where was she? Why couldn't she move?

Holding Martha in a vice-like grip to him, Aaron began to whisper softly to her in her ear. She was shifting from flailing her arms wildly at him to falling back into his arms like a rag doll. For the first time in his life, Aaron was scared. He tried to remember what he knew about overdosing. It was not something one took a crash course in at the Academy, but since being with Martha, he had Googled most of her medication. He had never thought this would be a scenario he would have to recall that information, but he had concerns about the medication she was on ever since Logan's taped confession, implying that Martha may not have needed all the pills she was on. Aaron had sat one night when Martha was asleep and tried to find out more about her medication. He had concerns that she appeared to have been on barbituates for many years--pills which many doctors had tried to wean their patients off to a more safe, less reliant drug. He was intending to bring it up with Martha, and watching her now, he wished he had done so sooner.

Martha looked up, her eyes finally focusing on the night sky above her. And like a wave, the events of the last few hours washed over her. Seeing Aaron holding her, she began to fight against his grip on her. Frustrated by the weakness of her arms, she opened her mouth.

Aaron jumped. Loosing his hold on the woman he loved, he could only sit and stare as Martha let out an ear piercing scream. Watching her for what seemed like an eternity, he couldn't move. Couldn't take her hand to comfort her. He could only watch as she wailed into the night. He could almost feel the pain emanating off her.

Martha felt as if someone had wrenched her back to hell. Lying on the wet ground, she could not understand why she was here. This was not what was meant to happen. She shouldn't be here, she wanted to sleep. She wanted the pain to stop, and now lying doing the only thing her body would let her, screaming into the night, she wished only for one thing. To sink back into the darkness that was so comforting. To again feel the sunlight on her face as she sank into a drug induced oblivion of her choosing.

Feeling the reality of his situation kick start his body into action again, Aaron tried desperately to reach down to Martha. To take her back into his arms. To try to regain some semblance of control. When right now he felt like someone had rearranged all the rules of his life, he had never felt so helpless. Never felt so alone. He knew he could jump in front of a bullet; he'd been trained for it. What no one had ever taught him was what to do when the one thing you loved more than life itself was slipping away before your eyes. His eyes blurred with unshed tears, and he squinted as the flashing lights of the ambulance came into view. Standing, he could only watch as the paramedics jumped out of the vehicle and ran toward them. The woman bent to Martha, while the man spoke to Aaron. Aaron could see his lips moving, knew he was talking to him but he couldn't hear. The only things that echoed in his ears were the last words Martha had spoken before she had drifted back into unconsciousness_. _

_"Why didn't you let me die!"_

"Sir, her name? I need to confirm. We got code clearance. Can you confirm this is Martha Logan?" The paramedic put a gentle hand on Aaron's arm.

"Martha, yes. That's Martha." Aaron couldn't take his eyes off her still form. He watched while the paramedic put an oxygen mask on her, feeling for a pulse. "She had a pulse, she was awake." Aaron blurted out, still unable to move from his current position.

"Okay, listen to me. What's your name?" The elder man asked softly.

"Aaron, Aaron Pierce." His voice sounded odd, like it was coming from somewhere else.

"Okay, Aaron. Now Jill there, she is just checking Martha out, alright? Then we'll move her. My name is Jason. You say you have what she has taken."

Reaching into his pocket, Aaron silently handed over the two empty bottles. Jason studied the bottles and bent closer to his partner. "Looks like a barbituate OD. Let's get her moving." Watching as the pair strapped Martha onto a gurney, Aaron still felt as if his feet had been welded to the ground. He turned and watched as they got her into the ambulance as Jason--was that his name?-- approached him again.

"Aaron, you're in shock. It's perfectly understandable. But we need to get Martha to the hospital. And I'm guessing you might want to come. Taking his hand, Aaron felt like a child being led into his first day at school, but for some reason he felt slightly comforted by the elder man's presence. Turning, he followed Jason to the ambulance and sat facing Martha. He realized again that for the first time in his life he had absolutely no clue what to do. Turning to the man next to him, he realized he was still gripping Jason's hand. Feeling foolish, he pulled away. "Wha..." The words caught in his throat. "What will happen to her?"

"I think we best wait for the doctors to take a look at her." Jason was bent over Martha, clipping wires to her fingers and adjusting her oxygen mask.

Feeling a rush of adrenaline kick in, Aaron wanted, no needed, to take some control back. Grasping Jason's shoulder, he pulled him back to face him. "I need to know what will happen to her." His voice again had taken on the tone of Agent Pierce.

Jason sighed and, satisfied Martha was comfortable, he sat back down. "Aaron, I don't know how many pills Martha has taken, but I can tell you. The meds she was on can be a nasty combination. To be honest, I am surprised she is still being prescribed them. There are lots of variables--the amount of a fatal dosage varies to the individual. If Martha has mixed them with alcohol and we still don't know the number of pills she has in her system…"

"Just tell me, worst case scenario." Aaron reached for Jason's shoulder as he began to say he should wait for the doctors before making a diagnosis. "Please, I need to know. What could happen to her?"

"In severe cases, Aaron, a barbituate overdose effects the heart and respiratory system. Worst case scenario is she falls into a coma. If that happens..." Jason trailed off. Seeing Aaron turn away, he directed his attention back to Martha, checking her heart rate.

"She wanted to die." Aaron murmured, unheard by anyone. And the most terrifying thing he thought was that she might not forgive him for saving her.

_"Why didn't you let me die?"_

"Aaron, Aaron, wake up." Agent Hemlett shook the man sprawled on the uncomfortable chairs.

"Martha!" Aaron jumped to a standing position.

"Hey, it's me." Rob stood in front of his friend. "Aaron. It's me."

Aaron glanced wildly around the deserted room and stopped on the worried gaze of his friend. "What's happened? Why didn't anybody wake me? Where's Martha?" Aaron prowled the room like a caged tiger.

"She's still with the doctor. Aaron, come on, sit down. Here…I brought you this." Holding out a mug of machine-dispensed coffee, Rob was relieved when Aaron stopped pacing and took the cup. "Come on… sit down and drink."

Aaron slumped back onto the chair and took a swig from the styrofoam cup, grimacing as the bitter taste hit his dry mouth. "What's happening Rob? It's been hours now."

"I spoke to the doctor before I came here. She's stable." Aaron sank back into the chair. "She's stable, but still not awake."

"I need to see her." Aaron quickly stood again and threw the cup into the trash can.

"Doctor's on his way in to talk to you, give it five. Okay?"

Aaron paced the room again, glancing at the door.

"For what it's worth, Aaron, I'm sorry." Rob sat and held his head in his hands. "I should've checked on her, should've done something. Hell, if I had guessed what she was thinking, I would have..."

Aaron stopped and looked at his friend, and for the first time that night smiled softly. "It's not your fault, Rob. I've been sitting here for hours thinking what if, should I? And I finally realized that no one could have seen this coming. If anything, I'm to blame. I shouldn't have left her. I saw what she was like, and I left her alone." Feeling tears stinging the back of his eyes again, he stopped and wiped a hand over them.

Rob, slowly looked up, "I think Mrs. Logan would have found a way to do this, Aaron. I don't think any of us could have predicted it. I never told you but my sister, Rebecca." He stopped and cleared his throat. "She was 29 when it happened; the whole family knew she wasn't happy. Bad relationship, lost her job. But on the outside she could have fooled a damn polygraph. Kept that smile on her face right to the end. The night before she...well, the night before, I spoke to her on the phone, asked her how she was coping. And you know what? She sounded positive, sounded like she really knew how to get herself back on track. The next day her roommate found her. No note. No nothing."

Aaron swallowed the lump in his throat as his friend of twenty-odd years kept talking.

"For what my opinion is worth, Aaron, I think when someone is that desperate. When they feel like there is nowhere else to go. When they lose hope…they will find a way." Clearing his throat, Agent Hemlett looked back up at Aaron. "Difference is, Aaron, Martha has you, and though it might not seem like it now. She will realize she has hope left. Because when you lose hope... well...she has you. Don't give up on her."

"Rob, I..." Aaron stopped as the door to the room opened.

"Aaron Pierce." The doctor looked between the two men.

"Yes, I'm Aaron Pierce. Martha--is she... " Aaron couldn't finish the sentence.

"I'm Dr. Walken, I've been attending to Mrs. Logan. She's going to be fine."

Aaron stumbled backwards and fell back into the chair. Letting out a breath, he didn't know he had been holding in. "Can I see her?"

"Mr. Pierce, Martha is going to be fine, physically. We pumped her stomach. You got her here in time, and luckily, she hadn't consumed any alcohol with the pills. Physically, she will be fine, some bruising. She will ache for a few days. At this moment, though, I have grave concerns about her mental health."

"Can I see her?" Aaron repeated. His hands were gripping the sides of the chair.

"She's sleeping right now, but yes, you can go in. I have to ask, though…I need to contact Mrs. Logan's next of kin. It's a matter of some urgency." Dr. Walken looked between the two men.

Aaron immediately jumped to his feet. "Why? What is it? I thought you said she was fine."

"I said _physically_ Mrs. Logan is fine. She will make a full recovery. But you have to realize, Mr. Pierce, that Martha tried to kill herself tonight. This was not a cry for help. The amount of tablets she took, her being at the park…she didn't want to be found, and I have to be sure that she won't try anything like this again."

"She won't." Aaron firmly stated, his jaw set. "I won't let her."

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Mr. Pierce. This is why I need the name of her next of kin. Now I have looked on Mrs. Logan's file, and she has her former husband listed. Now, I do not wish to make assumptions, but I am guessing that this might not be in my patient's best interest." Dr. Walken smiled. He had spoken to the nurses and was under no illusion that his patient and the man stood before him were just good friends. Also, he had read the papers, heard the rumors, and he was very sure that contacting the former president would not be a wise move. Seeing Aaron's face flush with anger, he stepped back as Aaron moved toward him.

"If you let that man anywhere near Martha, I swear to god... " Aaron's fists clenched.

"Aaron." Rob, who had been standing silently, moved toward his friend and gently touched his arm. "Aaron, calm down. Doc here isn't saying that. But he is right, you don't have the authority to act on her behalf right now. Think about it." He let his grip slacken as he felt Aaron slowly calm down.

"Right, right." Aaron moved away and began pacing the floor. "Her mother, I guess her mother should be informed." Turning back to the chairs, he reached for Martha's purse. Flicking through her address book, he found what he needed. Passing it to the doctor, he slumped back onto the chair. "Grace Lawrence. That's her name." Closing his eyes, Aaron hoped he had done the right thing.


	5. Chapter 5

Martha tried to open her eyes. Squinting at the harsh light. She tried to remember how much she had drank the night before. From the feel of her head she was sure she hadn't stopped at one glass of wine with dinner. Turning her head gingerly, on the some what scratchy pillow, she thought how unlike her it was not to close her curtains. Even in her most drunken stupours Martha had not once forgot to close her drapes, whether she managed to make it to her bed or the nearest sofa. Closing her barely open eyes she fought against the pounding of drums in her head and tried to remember. Then like a river bursting its dams it came flooding back. She wasn't meant to be here. Opening her eyes again she looked around the room. If this was heaven it was someones idea of a bad joke. Feeling her skin grow cold she shivered slightly as what felt like ice ran through her veins. She was in a hospital and she could not understand why. This wasn't meant to happen. She should be dead. She wanted to be dead.

_Aaron could see her walking away from him, her blonde hair in the distance. He increased his fast pace to a run. Shouting her name into the wood he found when he opened his mouth no sound came out. Feeling the panic rise in him he could only watch as she yet again disappeared behind another tree. Sprinting now he panted as he rounded the corner, relieved he saw her. Her back was to him and she was sat on the grassy ground leaning against a tall tree. As he knelt down beside her, his breathing laboured, he reached out an arm to pull her toward him. Slowly at first she fell back against his chest, her head slumped onto her chest. Feeling his anxiety grow again he pushed her hair back and lifted her face to him..._

"Martha!" Sitting bolt upright, he looked to the bed. He had been at her side for over 8 hours now. She slept deeply, the faint sound of the heart monitor was the only thing stopping him from checking her pulse every minute. He realised he must have dozed off. Closing his eyes tightly to rid himself of his dream he shuddered as he remembered the sight of her glassy blue eyes staring back at him. Not seeing him. Dead eyes. He again glanced to the figure lying motionless in the bed beside him. Two blue eyes stared back. Dead eyes. Shaking his head he wondered if he was still dreaming, if he was still in the woods holding Marthas lifeless body. Feeling as if his heart had stopped he let out a gasp as the eyes blinked. "Martha?" He moved closer to the bed and reached for her hand. "Martha, darlin. It's me. It's Aaron. I'm here." The eyes stared back at him but she did not move. "Honey can you hear me?" Gently he stroked her cold cheek. She didn't move, just stared at him with those eyes. Dead eyes. Tearing his gaze from hers, not letting go of her hand he shouted through the open door. "Someone, please.." His voice broke and he didn't relax even when a young nurse came through the door.

"Mr Pierce? What is it?" The nurse quickly checked the monitors attached to his patient and seeing nothing out of the ordinary looked toward Aaron. "Mr Pierce? Did something happen?"

Aaron looked down toward Martha and saw her eyes were once again closed. Closed to the world. Closed to him. "I...I...She opened her eyes." Not letting go of her hand he slumped back into the chair. "She was awake, I think. I mean...Maybe..." Reaching out he gently touched her cheek again wishing he could transfer some of the heat from his body to hers.

"Mr Pierce. Martha's systym has been through a lot. She is very lucky you found her when you did. But the best thing for her now is sleep and by the state of you I could likely say the same about you."

Aaron squinted in the dull light at the nurses face and realised he couldn't have been much older than Nate. Smiling at him he sat back to his earlier position and kept his grip on her hand. "I'm fine...um.."

"Richard, i'm Richard." The man smiled back at him. "But really all Mrs Logan needs right now is rest and no stress."

"I know, and you can be sure I will..." Aaron stopped as he heard a familiar voice outside Martha's room. He recognised the quiet pacifying voice of Rob and a louder more shrill voice he did not recognise.

_" I don't give a damn what the Dr said! You let me in this room right now or I will have your badge young man!"_

Richard looked toward Aaron who raised an eyebrow in response. "No stress?"

"I'll take care of it." The young man smiled once more at Aaron and quietly left the room.

As Richard opened the door to leave, Aaron caught again the quiet voice of Agent Rob Hemlett, and wondered what was going on. Looking back toward Martha's sleeping form he decided right now he had more important things to deal with and tried to block out the voice steadily getting louder as the owner got closer to the door.

_"Open this door right now! Whats your name? Fine Richard kindly step away from the door and let me see my daughter."_

On hearing those words Aaron jumped from the chair in time to see a 4"11 silver haired hurricaine sweep into the room. Silently stepping to one side he watched as Mrs Grace Lawrence, a woman he knew by reputation alone, pushed him without a glance out of the way and flung herself onto Martha's still form. "Oh my baby, my poor baby. What have you gone and done. You silly, silly girl."

On hearing those words Aaron recovered from the shock of being overpowered by someone half his size and stepped toward the bed. Taking one of Grace's arms he tried to gently move her from the death grip she currently had on her daughter. "Mrs Lawrence, please. You need to calm down and step back. Martha can't be stressed like this." He visibly stumbled slightly as two steel blue eyes turned and fixed their glare on him.

"While I appreciate you sitting with my daughter Dr...?" Grace, turned to face Aaron and although she barely reached his shoulder, Aaron was ashamed to admit to himself he felt slightly intimidated.

"I'm not a Dr. Mrs Lawrence, my name is..." Before Aaron could finish, Grace had turned to Richard who was hovering in the doorway.

"Not a Dr? Then would somebody mind telling me who is looking after my daughter and why they are not here now!" Grace waited her eyes darting between the two men.

Richard who had visably paled opened his mouth..."Mrs Lawrence Dr Hill will be round again in about 30 minutes."

"I believe I said _now_ young man!"

Giving Aaron an apologetic look Richard turned to go locate Martha's Dr.

Facing Aaron again Grace stared at him. "So young man, if you are not my daughter's Dr. Would you mind telling me what you are doing in her room?" Stopping and glancing at Aaron again her eyes scanned him up and down. "Wait, no don't tell me. Red hair, Texan accent. You must be Andrew."

Aaron stopped himself from shuffling his feet on the ground and fought the feelings of being back in high school and being interrogated by the head teacher. Finding her gaze, steel blue met brighter blue. He cleared his throat. "Aaron. My name is Aaron Pierce, Mrs Lawrence. I am pleased to meet you. Well in the circumstances I mean not pleased, but...I...I'm sorry." Glancing down at Marthas still form he smiled. "So Martha has mentioned me."

Grace frowned. "Your name has come up in our monthly calls. Monthly? I ask you. With everything that I have done for that girl and I get a call monthly. I bet you call your mother more than once a month don't you Andrew? Well?"

Aaron stepped back and was grateful when his back met the wall. He felt like the room was spinning. "I, um...my mother is dead. Mrs Lawrence."

Grace didn't loose eye contact with Aaron for a second. "Apparently something my daughter nearly was tonight." Grace turned toward Martha and blinked away what Aaron was sure was a errant tear. "So, would you mind telling me why my daughter decided she wanted to..." Grace stopped as the words caught in her throat. Blinking away another tear she turned back to Aaron her steely glare fixed again on her face. "Why my Martha wanted to kill herself."

Aaron felt as though his heart had jumped into his throat. He had been with Martha for nearly ten hours now. Ten hours since he had found her in the park and in that time, not one person had asked him why? Why this woman, this beautiful, vibrant woman whom he loved more than his own life, had decided she could no longer live her own. Closing his eyes he felt the blood rush to his head. "Would you mind if I sat Mrs Lawrence?"

Grace raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow and Aaron fought the urge to laugh as she looked so like Martha. "Sure, go ahead sit. Theres one chair, I'm 81 and just flown 250 miles but go ahead." Seeing Aaron visably redden, Grace took pity on him and smiled. Well the corners of her lips twitched slightly. "Sit Aaron. Please." Watching the man intently Grace perched on the side of Martha's bed, her hand gently touched her daughters before she pulled it away and clutched them in her lap. "Now as it appears this Doctor is not going to show his face any time this century. Maybe you can explain to me what the hell happened"

Aaron rubbed his hand over his tired eyes and for the first time that evening the reality of what had actually happened hit him. Martha had tried to kill herself. He stopped for a second and imagined his life without her in it and although he tried, he could not stop the tears that began falling down his face. Embarassed he turned his head away from Grace. But it was too late. His shoulders began to shake and no matter how hard he tried to swallow them he couldn't stop the sobs that burst from his lips. He opened his mouth to try and explain to the woman sat opposite him, but when he tried to talk he found the crying intensified. Finally giving in to them he put his head in his hands and allowed himself to grieve, not for the death of the woman he loved but for the part of her that he now realised he may never be able to understand. Feeling a warm hand gently touch the top of his head he finally looked up into Grace's face. A face now not as harsh, a face that could be Martha in 20 years time. For the first time he actually looked at Martha's mother and was struck by their likeness. Her eye's now didn't look so grey, in fact they now brimmed with unshed tears and shone a brighter blue. Allowing this stranger, this person he had never met but who reminded him of someone he had so nearly lost, allowing them to stroke his head once more before he wiped his eyes and cleared his choked throat. "Mrs Lawrence. I am sorry. I don't know what..."

"Why don't we start again." Grace smiled, "I'm Grace, Martha's mother. You must be the man who appears to have kept my daughter away from me for the last few months." Grace chuckled as Aaron began to protest, to apologise. "No, no I don't mean that in a bad way. Martha has been happier these last few months. Since she finally got rid of the weasel and you came on the scene she has been lighter, more ...well more like my Martha. At least thats what I could glean through a monthly phonecall." As she mentioned the phonecall again she playfully scowled at her daughter and Aaron chuckled. The first time that night. "You know Aaron, my Martha has been ill for a long time. I have always known that. As a teenager, she thought I didn't notice the marks on her arms, the mood swings. The staying in her room for weeks on end. We made her see Doctors of course, but Martha was never, well she was never happy. Not like she was as a child." Grace turned slightly and ran her fingers through her daughters hair. "She was a beautiful child, always the one that had to have all the attention on her. She would put on plays, drag her sister into performing Shakespeare in the backyard. I don't know what happened. Then she married ..._him.._and for a while things seemed to settle. She seemed happy. But there was always a sadness behind her eyes, something always there that I could never make better." Turning back to face Aaron, "You know, your child falls down, you put a band aid on their knee. Your child has a sadness an inner sadness that you can't make better..."Grace's voice trailed off. Clearing her throat she looked back at Martha. "You know I have been waiting for this phone call for nearly 40 years. Is that a bad thing to say. When they called me earlier, I wasn't surprised. What surprised me was why now? Why after all these years did she choose this night? Why? After she had told me about you, about how happy you made her feel. Why now?" the question was rhetorical. Grace sighed and looked back to Aaron. "Well young man, I have been here for nearly 30 minutes now and noone has offered me a drink."

Aaron smiled and slowly stood. "What can I get you?"

"A vodka Martini?" Grace smiled.

"I could likely irish up a coffee. If I know Rob, he usually has his flask close by." Aaron laughed.

"That sounds just perfect. Now why don't you get an old woman a drink, find Martha's doctor for me. Let me have a few minutes with my daughter." Aaron glanced down at Martha and turned to leave the room. "Oh and Aaron? Go wash your face, you look like hell man!"Smiling at Aarons retreating back, Grace turned once more to the bed and her daughter. Shrugging off her coat she gently placed it over the chair and again sat on the edge of Martha's bed. This time she allowed her fingers to curl around Martha's cold hand. She allowed herself to reach out and gently brush an errant hair from her daughters face and after a few minutes Grace allowed the tears to fall freely from her eyes.

Rob glanced up at the clock again and shifted from one uncomfortable position to another. Although officially he was no longer on duty, his relief agent was now positioned outside Mrs Logan's door, he had not wanted to leave. He told himself it was through loyalty and concern to his charge. He told himself it was because he knew Aaron needed him there. The reality was he wanted to be there when Mrs Logan did wake up. Rebecca had not woken up. The last time he saw his sister he was convinced she was going to wake up. Going to tell him it was a mistake she was just asleep. But she never did. Mrs Logan on the other hand would wake up. She had to. Glancing again at the door Rob allowed his eyes to close against the harsh light in the waiting room, only to jump up a few seconds later as Aaron pushed through the door. "Aaron? Mrs Logan she's..." His voice trailed off as he found he could not complete the sentence.

"She's still asleep." Aaron crossed the room and heavily landed in the chair next to his friend. "She opened her eye's. I think. But there was nothing there Rob, no Martha behind them." Sighing he realised he was still holding a polystyrene cup of coffee in his hand, the heat was burning his fingers gripped around it. "Her mother arrived."

"Don't tell me, tiny silver haired woman? Looks like she could control the SAS single handed?" Aaron chuckled slightly. "Yeah, she came in here first." Rob grinned. "Damn scary woman."

"She's not too bad. We spoke for a while. Told her you could maybe add a kick to her coffee." Holding out the cup he grinned back as Rob pulled the ever present hip flask from his pocket and poured in a large dash of whisky. Glancing at the cup and then back at Aaron Rob added an extra shot.

"This might calm her down slightly." Rob winked.

"Thanks. Seriously though, you ought to go home. Sarah's going to have my hide." Aaron stood.

"Sarah knows where I need to be right now. Go on get that drink to Mrs Lawrence." Rob settled back into the chair. "Besides if that whiskey doesn't kick in, you might need reinforcements."

_Leave me alone! Get off me!_

Aaron's heart stopped as he recognised the scream that came from inside Martha's room. Walking faster now, he dropped the cup as he heard her voice again.

_I said get the hell off me!_

Pushing the door open, he couldn't move as he saw her. Martha was awake. Her hands pulling at the tubes that ran into her and hitting out at Grace who now had lost her earlier composure and was desparatly trying to soothe her daughter.

"Martha, sweetheart, please." Grace was crying now.

"I said get the hell off a me." Martha's voice was near hysterical now. Aaron watched as she, even in her weakened state mananged to push her mother off her. "I...I.." She slumped back against the pillow and her face paled. "I'm going to be sick..."

Aaron, moved quickly to the bed and reached for the small bowl. Without saying a word he softly pushed her damp hair back and gently rubbed her back. Not stopping for a second even when Martha emptied her stomach into the small bowl. He didn't notice Grace sink to the chair in the room. Didn't notice her weeping. He just concentrated on the circular movements his hand was making on Martha's back. He didn't stop until Martha was dry heaving, the sound loud in the once too quiet room. Moving the bowl back to the table he gently took her head, still hanging forward against his arm. Softly he moved her back until she weakly fell back against the white pillows. "Grace." His voice was calm, belying the trembling he was feeling inside. "Grace, why don't you go and get Dr Walken." His gaze was fixed on Martha and he didn't look away once. Her eye's again closed, this time not in sleep, but in sheer exhaustion.

"Ok, yes. Ok."

He heard the elder woman leave the room and studied the woman in his arms. Her face was damp with perspiration her hair clinging to her. Still keeping one arm behind her back he moved the other from her waist and stroked her face. Moving gently away from her he walked to the small sink and wet the washcloth. As he moved back toward the bed he saw her eyes slowly open and focus on him. She opened her dry lips as if to say something and as though not being able to find the right words she closed them and just watched as Aaron moved back to her. Sitting on the edge of the bed he reached up with the cloth and gently began to wipe away the remnants of the poison seeping out of her.

Martha lay back and allowed Aaron to tend to her. She wanted to talk, to explain to him. She wanted to tell him she loved him that she was sorry. She wanted to...she wanted...him.

Martha had always liked the outdoors. Had always liked the green that had surrounded her growing up. As she got older, got married she became what some would call a city girl and while to the outsider she might have seemed like the sophisticated politicians wife. She liked nothing more than kicking off her heeled shoes at the end of a day and feeling the grass through her toes. Watching as flowers she had planted months before finally burst through the soil. She had never liked the perfect gardens of the White House, prefering her flower beds at home, haphazardly planted, so in the spring they turned her bare gardens into a riot of colors. She often compared them to her mind. Nothing was organised, nothing was settled. Yet somehow she took peace in them. Staring out of the window now she looked out onto the gardens of the hospital where she had been for the past week and smiled.

"Now that's something I have missed."

Jumping slightly, Martha turned from the window to find her mother staring at her, a small smile on her face. "Mom." Martha smiled back.

"How are you feeling?" Grace walked into the room and placed her hand on Marthas arms.

Looking down, Martha realised her arms were clamped vice like around her body as if protecting herself from some outside threat. "Scared." Martha whispered.

Grace squeezed her daughters hand before moving it to stoke Martha's face. "I know baby, I know. But you are doing the right thing."

Martha flinched slightly and turned her head away from her mothers touch. "Well it's not really as if I had a choice is it." Sighing she turned her gaze to the flowers outside. Closing her eyes she remembered the conversation with her psychiatrist the day before. Yes,she had agreed to go to Meadowcreek, but she knew that she was really not being given a choice. It was voluntarily admit herself or be admitted.

"Martha we all have choices in this life. We all ultimatly decide our destinies our futures. I am very proud of you. I am proud you have chosen to deal with what happened, to get better. At the end of the day sweetheart by agreeing to go to Meadowcreek yourself, you took control of something and I am guessing control is something you are not feeling you have much of at the moment." Seeing Martha turn back to face her Grace smiled. "You just remember my girl, you were the one that chose the next step in your life. A life that I hope is full of happiness and love. You chose life."

Feeling a tear slip from her eye, Martha closed the gap between them and felt herself enveloped in her mothers arms. "I'm just scared Mommy, I'm scared that Aaron won't be able to deal with all this. I'm scared that he will see that I am not worth all this effort."

Despite being nearly a foot smaller than her daughter Grace rocked her in her arms as if she was a small child again. "Martha, the truth is...He might." Feeling Martha stiffen in her arms she tightened her grasp. "What I am saying is, yes Aaron might leave you, yes you might have to deal with things without him. Honestly I have seen the two of you together this past week and I think the man would walk over hot coals for you and then back again. But you have to look to the future for you. You cannot chose to live for someone else Martha. You have to want to live for you. You will always have love, you will always be loved. But you have to feel love for yourself. Do you understand?" Feeling her daughters head nod slightly in her embrace. Grace smiled.

Aaron stopped at the door and smiled as he watched mother and daughter softly swaying togther. Not wanting to break the moment he backed slowly out of the room and cursed loudly as his shin came into contact with the fire extinguisher outside the room. Sheepishly looking up he grinned as two identical smiles beamed back at him.

Grace, looking up at her daughter was pleased to see a spark in her eyes, that for days had been so dull and lifeless. "Ok, I am going to go on ahead with that nice young man Rob. I'll get that place looking more like a home in no time. Can I get you anything on our way darling?"

Martha sighed and looked out at the gardens again, "Maybe some flowers, I mean I know its supposed to have gardens and all. But maybe something bright."

Grace stood on her tip-toes and kissed her daughters cheek. "Something bright. I think I can manage that." Squeezing Aarons arm as she passed him she carried on muttering as she left the room. "Something bright, hummm. Maybe some plastic fruit, I saw some lovely..."

Aaron grinned as Grace's voice trailed off. Walking toward Martha he stood behind her and snaked his arms around her waist. "How are y..."

Leaning her head back onto his chest Martha sighed, "Please don't ask how I am doing Aaron. Not today. Lets just stand here for a while, stand here with me. Let me just pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist, that there is just you, just me." Feeling Aarons breath on her neck, Martha shivered as his lips found the spot there that made her melt under his touch. They stood in silence Marthas eyes closed. Focusing on Aarons warmth. After a while she turned in his arms, her eyss opening and she gazed into his face. His eyes were still closed and she leaned forward and softly kissed each of his closed eyelids. Pecking a kiss on his nose she smiled as he didn't open his eyes but a huge grin broke over his face. Tracing his lips with her finger she pressed her lips against his. Feeling the warmth of his mouth under hers she didn't want this moment to end. Finally breaking away they stood in silence her forehead against his. "Aaron?"

"Humm?" He sighed.

"I love you." Reaching up with her finger she placed it over his mouth. "No, no, let me talk." Watching as his eyes found hers again she stroked his lips again. "My mother reminded me that I have to do this for me, that I have to want to live for me and not for someone else. And she is right. And I think...no I know that I am doing this for me. But I also realised that its not just enough to want to live, you have to have something to want to live for. I don't expect anything from you, I know you love me and I know you will be there for me and I want you to know that I am doing this for the both of us. But I am doing this first and foremost for me. Because I finally realised that being loved by you has made me want to live. I want to live the rest of my life with you. But I don't want you to say anything now. Nothing at all. I don't wan't you to make any promises to me. Not now. I don't know what lies ahead for us Aaron but I know it's not going to be an easy road for me at first. But what I never want you to question is that I love you. I hope that I can be worthy of your love." Exhaling a breath she didn't know she had been holding Martha finally moved her fingers from his lips.

Aaron looked up at Martha and smiled. "No words now then." He grinned. " But I brought you a gift." Reaching to the brown paper bag on the floor beneath him he loosened his grip on Martha and held it up in front of them. Hearing her giggle, a sound he had not heard in weeks he placed the bag back on the floor and held her close to him again. Feeling her laughter against his chest he was glad he had stopped at Mel's.


End file.
